


Amasai Oneshots and Drabbles

by Uta_chi



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: But It's Fluffy, Cuddles, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Introspection, M/M, Making Out, Nightmares, One Shot Collection, Tags added as they appear, Unresolved Emotional Tension, so much introspection, we stan happy endings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:46:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24279826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uta_chi/pseuds/Uta_chi
Summary: I have read all the Amasai content I could find on ao3, now it has reached the point I have to make my own. It's been a while since I've written anything, but I hope I can give back to the amazing writers I've seen for this ship!If anyone has any suggestions or ideas for Amasai content feel free to throw it my way, inspiration is always appreciated ^^
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 133





	1. Favourite Colours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "For as long as he can remember, green has always been his favourite colour. The light green of avocados and limes, of his sisters’ hair and his mother’s eyes. Light colours in general calm him and set him at ease.
> 
> So how is it, he wonders, that Shuuichi’s darker blue draws him in so much?"
> 
> Rantaro being a lovestruck dork.

For as long as he can remember, green has always been his favourite colour. The light green of avocados and limes, of his sisters’ hair and his mother’s eyes. Light colours in general calm him and set him at ease.

So how is it, he wonders, that Shuuichi’s darker blue draws him in so much? He contemplates this very important question as his hands weave through the threads of his boyfriend’s hair. Gently untangling locks until they fall through his fingers, taking in the shocking blue against tanned fingers and white pillows. 

“What are you thinking about Rantaro?” A sleepy but amused voice draws him out of his in-depth analysis.

“You must have been deep in thought, you seem pretty focused on my hair.” And for how troubled he thought he was by his previous questioning, he realises:

“Focused isn’t quite the word; I’d say I’m more content.” Because Shuichi has brought out sides of Rantaro neither knew existed, but somewhere along the line, questions like how or why became irrelevant. It simply was, and lines of logic and thinking were replaced by the single feeling of adoration.

“What? Content with playing with my hair?” There’s a smile in his voice as he turns in Rantaro’s arms to face him, the smile turning to a smirk. 

Damn, that smirk is still a rarity on shy, reserved Shuuichi, and that is both a pity and a blessing. On the one hand, he’d loved to see it more often, on the other, he’s sure it could be the death of him. 

“What can I say?” He punctuates his response with a smirk of his own, before wrapping his arms around a lithe waist, and pulling him close and against him. “Your dark blue is becoming my favourite colour.”

Although, the blush he’s 99% sure is flourishing on the cheeks of the boy in his arms is a pretty colour in it’s own right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting out with some pure, tooth-rotting fluff, but don't be fooled! I have some comfort/hurt in store for the next chapter.
> 
> Thank you for reading my humble offering! Please leave any feedback or ideas in the comments and take care!


	2. To Weather a Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sometimes, all you can do is exist in a heap of troubles, frustrations and contradictions. Let the swirling thoughts swarm and overwhelm you, some sadistic part of your being wanting to wallow in it all. It grows and flows until you’ve lost the trains of thoughts that started it, leaving you feeling like nothing but the fog you’re left with."
> 
> Shuuichi's not in the best mindset, and Rantaro comes to help.

Sometimes, all you can do is exist in a heap of troubles, frustrations and contradictions. Let the swirling thoughts swarm and overwhelm you, some sadistic part of your being wanting to wallow in it all. It grows and flows until you’ve lost the trains of thoughts that started it, leaving you feeling like nothing but the fog you’re left with.

So Shuuichi lays on his dorm bed, content in the weakest meaning of the word to sink into the mattress and let the motions run through him. There are a number of people he could call, but some part of him can’t bring himself to pick up the phone.

Turns out he’d have to move a whole lot more when he heard two knocks on his door a few seconds later. 

“Shuuichi, are you in there? Are you alright?” The concerned voice of Rantaro Amami, his boyfriend and one of his closest confidants, calls out to him. 

But he’s torn. He doesn’t want Rantaro to see him like this, lethargic and empty, with listless limbs and dull eyes, but he can’t just leave him wondering and confused. He knows he’d be beside himself if the roles were reversed, and they’ve both discussed the need to be honest and open with each other, to rely on one another. 

So he reluctantly pushes himself up and stumbles over to the door, tripping as he climbed off the bed. He fumbles with the lock before he pulls it ajar and asks Rantaro to come in, his voice monotone and lacking it’s usual lilts. This, along with his slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, did not go unnoticed by the taller male. But while his brows knitted together in worry, he wasn’t at a loss for what to do, they’d both gotten through this before.

“Did something happen, or is it another episode?” It’s always the first question when Shuuichi is like this, and god, how he wishes the answer was the former. Together, the two of them could use their logic to unravel any physical obstacles and problems, but when it’s an episode, their only option is to weather the storm together. 

“An episode. I just woke up this morning and I’ve been stuck like this ever since.” His sentence peters off at the end as he sinks into himself in shame. He doesn’t want to place any burden on him, no matter how strong Rantaro’s shoulders are to carry and share it with him.

“Hey,” the cold of metal rings meet his cheeks as two hands cup his face. “It’s alright.” the hands lightly press upwards, encouraging him to raise his head and meet soft green eyes. “Reason or no reason, if you’re not feeling like yourself then I want to help you.” Spoken quietly as if he might frighten the other if he were any louder, but spoken with complete certainty; it’s all he needs to hear before his emotions hit him full-force and he wraps his arms around the other’s neck. He tucks his head into the crook of Rantaro’s neck and breathes in a mix of acetone, seasalt and cologne, allowing himself to rest against the other as a hand works its way into his hair. 

They stand like that for a while, and Shuuichi idly admires the strength of his boyfriend to hold both of them up for such an extended period of time without a single complaint. But, as nice as this is, he lifts his hands to intertwine their fingers and drag both of them onto his bed. An impressive action considering how unmoving and passive he had felt up to that point. 

He feels a lot of things in the next few seconds. He deflates with a sigh of relief as his fatigued body hits the mattress, tenses as Rantaro swoops in to place a kiss against his lips, then relaxes again as he leans in and returns the gesture. 

Both of them know that what Shuuichi needs is a distraction, because there are few suitable words to explain how he feels, and many have already been said before. Now, the only things that can really be understood are actions, the only things to appreciate are sensations. 

In moods such as these, when he’s alone, he wants to savour every feeling in every moment, explore the thoughts that flit through his head at every angle. But now he’s focusing on the feeling of Rantaro’s hands, one gently placed on his waist, the other lingering over his cheek; the feeling of his lips travelling and traversing from Shuichi’s slightly chapped lips, to his jawline, down his neck and onto his collarbone; the feeling of his even, steady breathes sending nice chills down his spine. 

And he can’t help but sense the purpose in Rantaro’s actions, because while he claims to be a man of impulse, his lover is as thoughtful and methodical as can be when the wellbeing of his loved ones is in question. 

“Thank you, Rantaro.” he breathes out as he circles his arms around the other’s back and squeezes. As Rantaro ceases peppering Shuuichi with kisses, they both go still and quiet, holding on tightly to one another as the world comes back into focus. 

“You can call on me anytime, I know you know that, but I’ll remind you as many times as you need.” His voice is just above a whisper, but so clear and confident, but then, it’s the kind of confidence that grows when you practise trust as often as they have.

He takes his first deep breathe in a while, he’s himself again, he exists again. He pulls back to meet his eyes and nods. Words that would carry the weight of his appreciation just can’t come to mind, but he hopes the small smile he musters conveys enough. 

Apparently it does, because now Rantaro is beaming, eyes crinkled in relief and adoration. 

“So, what do you want to do from here? Sleep? Cuddle? Grab something to eat?”. Shuichi ponders, gives his tired, overworked mind time to weigh up his options.

“Is all of the above an option? Maybe in the opposite order?” and he feels cheeky, a lightheaded-lighthearted giggle escaping as the beautifully mundane conversation grounds him. 

“I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to.” the taller of the two chuckles before he adds, his voice slightly deeper “I like your thinking though”. He throws in a wink for good measure. 

There’s a satisfaction in using logic to solve problems, but a beauty in the warmth felt after weathering a storm together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went from about 300 words to 1000? What can I say, comfort/hurt fics are my bread and butter. 
> 
> I think the next one will be a bit more lighthearted, but please feel free to request more angst if it floats your boat! Any feedback on how I could improve is also welcomed!  
> Stay safe and take care everyone!


	3. Tumblr Pining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "‘Adventure_bLog’ was focused on recording the sights and information acquired during the blogger’s travels. Their following wasn’t all too large, a fact that surprised Shuuichi when he saw how detailed their frequent posts were.
> 
> With numerous pictures from a wide variety of countries and all seven continents, each taken with steady hands at well-thought-out angles, and pages of writing that brought each photo to life. Their experiences felt oddly tangible to him, and he shamelessly and vicariously lived through them."
> 
> Pre-relationship Shuuichi and Rantaro, where Rantaro turns out to be Shuuichi's #1 Tumblr crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was requested by Dink Donk, I may have got a bit carried away, but I hope you enjoy it!

After a long day of working hard at Hope’s Peak (whether the work is academic, or more about keeping the likes of Kokichi in line), Shuichi has a specific way of winding down. He dives into the depths of a certain Tumblr blog going by the name of ‘Adventure_bLog’. 

‘Adventure_bLog’ was focused on recording the sights and information acquired during the blogger’s travels. Their following wasn’t all too large, a fact that surprised Shuuichi when he saw how detailed their frequent posts were.

With numerous pictures from a wide variety of countries and all seven continents, each taken with steady hands at well-thought-out angles, and pages of writing that brought each photo to life. Their experiences felt oddly tangible to him, and he shamelessly and vicariously lived through them.

Shuuichi had no memories of travelling outside of Japan, but he hoped he would get to change that soon. 

He hoped Rantaro would let him help in his search for his sisters.

But to help, he’d need more than his detective skills, he’d need basic knowledge and common sense related to travelling. And so it was with this intention, this unyielding need to help his friend, that caused him to stumble onto the blog in the first place, and a wish to help quickly turned into personal curiosity and interest. 

Then before he knew it, that interest extended beyond the content, and onto the blogger themselves.

He didn’t have a name or face to go by, but he’d started sending messages asking questions about a number of the topics mentioned (he has been, and always will be an inquisitive soul - write that on his grave). Nervous, he almost expected to get no reply, but, to his amazement he received paragraphs of well-crafted writing that radiated enthusiasm. 

And so a beautiful friendship formed, conversations often starting with questions, and devolving into jokes, details of their everyday lives and more. Shuuichi couldn’t lie to himself at this point, he still had a crush on Rantaro, but he also had a crush on his online friend.

Lost in these memories and thoughts as the school day came to a close, he spaced out of the conversation his friends were having around him. 'How amusing' he thinks, how both of his crushes were actually quite similar. Both had a calming presence, even with their overflowing passion for adventure and the places they visited. They were great teachers with seemingly endless patience, and a keen understanding of when to change topics so as not to overwhelm Shuuichi.

He entertained the idea they could be the same person, but surely he couldn’t be that lucky, even if all the evidence pointed to such a convenient truth. 

“Shuuichi? Heeeeey Shuuichi! Anyone home?” Kaede’s melodic voice builds in volume (much like a gradual crescendo), ripping him from his thoughts.

“Ah! Yes, yes sorry Kaede.” He feels slightly embarrassed being caught thinking about his crushes, even if no one could read his mind and know that. 

“It’s fine, but are you okay? You looked kind of troubled.” 

“She’s not wrong, need a hand with something?” Kaito chips in, looking ready to give an iconic pep-talk from the Luminary of the Stars!

Maki stares intently alongside him, communicating what’s she’s stopped saying out loud: 'Who do I need to kill?'

“It’s not like that guys! I was just thinking about this Tumblr Blog I’ve gotten into and I’m looking forward to an update!” A half truth, those are always pretty reliable. 

“You like Tumbr Shuuichi? What’s the name of the blog?” Now Rantaro has slipped into their circle, a spark in his eyes showing excitement under his calm exterior. This reaction isn’t lost on Shuuichi, and he tries to bury the detective in his head whispering hopeful words. After all, what he’s about to say will either confirm his suspicions, or more likely crush such hopes. 

“I like a few, but my favourite by far is called ‘Adventure_bLog’. I talk with the author actually, we’re good friends.” He averted his eyes when saying this; eye contact still wasn’t quite his forte, and the additional pressure building in his chest wasn’t helping.

“Seriously...?” Everyone looks at Rantaro as he stares dumbfoundedly at Shuuichi, a shy smile forming as he now averted his gaze, a subtle but not-to-be-missed blush crossed over his features. “Shuuichi, that’s my blog”.

No way. I’m sorry, no. This kind of luck belongs with their upperclassman, not him. 

“So, are you ‘TruthBullets’?” He nods, a relieved grin forming on both their faces before Rantaro schools his expression. “In that case, we need to talk. Sorry guys, mind if I steal him for today?”. Uh oh, he looks serious, why does he look serious? Did he miss some crucial piece of evidence or something?

“Go for it! We’ll see you both tomorrow!” Kaede cheers them out of the door, while Kaito and Maki send encouraging smiles their way. That clearly shows they’ve known about his crush on Rantaro this whole time. S***. 

As they walk through the halls, out of the school and down the path towards their dorms, Rantaro breaks the silence. “I’m sorry if this seems out of nowhere Shuuichi, but now that I know you’re both the same person I don’t think I could keep this away from you.” They stop outside Rantaro’s dorm room, turning to each other as the shorter is fixed with a determined gaze. 

“I like you. I’ve liked you and your alter ego for a while now. If you don’t feel the sam-”

“Don’t even finish the sentence Rantaro.” He places a hand on the other’s arm, allowing the wave of confidence and adrenaline to carry him through. “I’ve felt exactly the same way. I’ve had a crush on both sides of you. I had my suspicions you’d be the same person, but I didn’t want to risk being wrong.” He almost feels like shrinking under the wide, blown eyes staring down at him, but as they soften with the upturn of his lips, he asks the question on the tip of his tongue. 

“What do you want us to be Rantaro?” He knows he wants to date Rantaro, but he also knows the responsibilities weighing on the other’s shoulders. Travelling to find his sisters, maintaining his academic studies and posting on his blog, he knows they’re all important to him and wouldn’t want to jeopardize any of that. 

“I want to be your boyfriend, I want us to go out but, you know how busy I am. You deserve someone more than the small amount of time I can give you,” he frowns, eyes downcast, “I just wanted you to know my feelings at least.” Shuuichi feels a strain on his heart and silently swears to do whatever it takes to keep that look off his face.

“Take me with you then, let me help you look for your sisters.” 

Silence builds in the air, but he refuses to let anymore tension grow. “Please Rantaro, I’ve wanted to help you for so long now. The whole reason I found your blog originally was to learn how to travel, all with this aim in mind. I’d do this even if you just wanted us to be friends, but if it will also allow us to to give this a try, then I have all the more reason to do it!”

In swift, fluid movements he’s drawn into the other boy, and held tightly.

“Please” He hears in a shaky exhale of breath next to his right ear. With all the words needed having been said, he circles his arms around his boyfriend, closing his eyes as he smiles, satisfied.


	4. Ill Rantaro!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A hand placed delicately on his forehead, cool but oddly comforting, coaxes Rantaro out of his sleepy stupor. How wonderful, he should have thought, to have Shuuichi as his very first sight of the day.
> 
> Instead, he is quickly shutting his eyes as a feverish chill runs through his body, acutely aware of his sweat-soaked t-shirt and shorts, and groaning at the reality pounding in his head in the form of a headache." 
> 
> Rantaro is ill and Shuuichi takes care of him.

A hand placed delicately on his forehead, cool but oddly comforting, coaxes Rantaro out of his sleepy stupor. How wonderful, he should have thought, to have Shuuichi as his very first sight of the day.

Instead, he is quickly shutting his eyes as a feverish chill runs through his body, acutely aware of his sweat-soaked t-shirt and shorts, and groaning at the reality pounding in his head in the form of a headache. 

“You’re sick with a fever. I’ve got things covered so take it easy and try not to move too much.” Shuuich presses a light kiss on his forehead, causing Rantaro’s eyes to flutter closed in appreciation, before leaving for a moment. The door is purposely left open, allowing the him to walk in and out silently as he brings in a glass of water and a soaked cold cloth that he places on his forehead, but not before using a hand to lift any sweat-soaked hair in the way. 

Now lifting a hand to his lips to kiss, he gives it a gentle squeeze before setting it back down on the bed. 

“I’m going to make some soup for you, hang in there a little longer okay?” With that he turns to leave again, and Rantaro is almost completely swept off his feet and into Shuuichi’s pace. He’s weak to moments like these, he’s realised, when the other is completely concentrated and focused so resolutely on providing thoughtful care and attention. He’s still not used to the reeling feeling and fuzzy warmth he experiences, ill or not. 

That being said, he pulls himself out of his foggy trance. 

“Shuuichi,” he croaks, “what about work?”. The flat look he receives in response is to be expected, but he had to ask. The case the detective had been working on recently was proving to be particularly tricky, and difficult cases tended to only pull in and excite him all the more. Rantaro hated to think he was dragging him away from his work, and, more importantly, his passion. 

“It can wait.” Before Rantaro can argue back he strides back across the room and places a finger over his lips, holding up one finger at a time as he speaks on his other hand “One, your health and wellbeing takes priority, my uncle understands that and is looking into it in my place. Two, I wouldn’t even be able to focus knowing you’re stuck here suffering alone. Three, I get a perfect opportunity to dote on you.” He finishes with a grin on his face, looking far too pleased with the flush colouring Rantaro’s cheeks.

He buries his flushed face in his hands, and swears he hears a “Cute.” being mumbled.

“Hey, here I am ill and vulnerable and you’re just going to tease me to death?” He tries to pout, but Shuuichi merely chuckles, turning to the door once more.

“Sorry, sorry, I just couldn’t resist a chance to turn the tables for a change.” And with that he’s left for the kitchen, and Rantaro, resigned to his fate for the day, lays back into the pillows and closes his eyes.

It seems not even a simple nap is possible to achieve in his current state, so he decides to listen to the distant sound of faint footsteps, chopping, pots and pans clattering, Shuuichi’s mumbled thoughts.

“Maybe I should add some carrots? I’ll have to chop them pretty finely so he doesn’t notice.” He’d beg to differ, tell him he’d taste those orange monstrosities in whatever form they took, but he doesn’t have the heart to. 

“Hmm, maybe a bit more salt?”

“Wait, where’s the medici- Ahh yes, it’s still in his bag from our travels.” Rantaro smiles slightly at that, he’s not the best at unpacking since he travels so often, and that’s taken precise and organised Shuuichi some getting used to.

Finally, the much anticipated meal arrives, along with some much needed medicine and a refill of water. Not that he had any doubts over Shuuichi’s cooking abilities - he’d been teaching him after all - but he’s impressed with the outcome of the soup, and proud at how much he’s improved since they first started cooking together. 

Finished, satisfied and feeling the medicine slowly kicking in, he sighs in relief, ready to sleep this fever into oblivion. 

“”Thank you….I love you Shuuichi.” He’s half asleep as he finishes the sentence, his filter entirely shut off and unable to prevent him from speaking those three powerful words. 

Meanwhile, steel-grey eyes are blown wide, staring at the sleeping man in dazed shock. With a hand over his heart, clutching the fabric of his own t-shirt, he wonders if he’s caught a fever himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a particular headcannon for Rantaro: He prefers fruit to vegetables, but being an older brother growing up with 12 younger sisters, he has learnt to disguise his dislike for them in order to help encourage his sisters to eat healthily. However, when he's not around them and has a choice, he'll do what he can to avoid them.
> 
> Why have Shuuichi subject him to orange monstrosities then? Shuuichi is a logical man, knowing veg is good for colds and fevers, he'll feed them to Rantaro regardless. He'll try not to go overboard though.
> 
> I hope this chapter was okay, today has been kind of slow, and sometimes I couldn't tell if things were clicking or not. I like to think this fanfic is a good way to practise though, and even if it isn't perfect some people will enjoy it.
> 
> Take care all!


	5. Lazy Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "8 letter word for lovable?" His tone makes it sound less like a question and more like a statement. Shuuichi stares in confusion for about 2.5 seconds before his face morphs into horror.
> 
> "Don't you dar-" 
> 
> Our two boys + a crossword + cheese = A perfect lazy afternoon.

Light from the slowly setting sun filters through the window of Rantaro’s room and illuminates Shuuichi’s crossword puzzle, held in a firm, but not rigid, grip. They’re both sat up, the adventurer sandwiched between the headboard of his bed and the back of his detective, who is settled between his legs as they both lean back. 

In this position it’s not difficult to lean forward slightly, prop his chin on the other’s shoulder and join in solving the puzzle, and he does just that, even if he won’t be much help. He’s always preferred sudokus, and honestly thought Shuuichi would too. They’re based on logical powers of deduction, you only need the information in front of you to solve them, and he’s always found numbers are easier to look at. All in all, they’re a nice challenge, but a relaxed sort that don’t push his brain too far. 

Turns out the detective likes the change from the deductive reasoning he’s so used to using, isn’t a massive fan of number puzzles (“maths gives me enough trauma as it is” he’d shivered to emphasise his point), and likes to extend his vocabulary and general knowledge while he’s at it. 

It’s far too much effort for Rantaro on a lazy summer afternoon like this, but watching Shuuichi glare intensely at the clues is a very easy task for his tired eyes.

“A musical instrument originating from Italy?” The question isn’t directed at him per say, but if he’s asking a question out loud like that, it normally means he’s asking for his input anyway, especially if it’s a question related to foreign countries. 

“Is it 5 letters? I’m pretty sure Kaede mentioned the piano originated from there.” Sharp, determined eyes narrow by a fraction as he writes the answer in, satisfaction tugging the right corner of his lips upwards. 

“Hey, is that a good stopping point?” Seeing his boyfriend so pleased, he almost feels bad asking him to stop, but he’s pretty sure the alternate activity he’s about to present will make up for it. Besides, he can't really deny the affectionate feelings building and welling up as he watches the detective's endearing actions.

“Yeah, I guess I can call it there for now. Why?” Blue hair tickles his neck as the man cranes his neck to look at him.

Rantaro moves one of the hands around Shuuichi’s waist, sliding it up his arm to rest on his shoulder before leaning in for a quick, chaste kiss. 

“Oh.” It comes out slightly breathless, a tint of a blush beginning to colour his cheeks. “If that’s your idea, I almost wish you’d stopped me sooner.” He shuffles and turns so he's fully facing him. 

This time they both lean into the kiss, it’s gentle and languid, lacking desperation and filled with appreciation for the time they have to themselves this afternoon. The hand on Shuuichi's shoulder now trails up to cup his cheek while the hand on his waist pulls him closer and closer still. Shuuichi is leaning further in, lips pressing just a touch harder as one of his hands begins to tangle in silky green hair, his fingers pressing pleasantly onto his scalp. Rantaro lets a sigh slip out and pulls back for a moment to look into warm eyes coloured a cold grey. 

"8 letter word for lovable?" His tone makes it sound less like a question and more like a statement. Shuuichi stares in confusion for about 2.5 seconds before his face morphs into horror.

"Don't you dar-"

"Shuuichi." He can't help the intended smirk turning into a cheeky grin, which turns into a fit of laughter at Shuuichi's attempt at an indignant pout. 

"7 letter word for dork. Rantaro." Okay, maybe it shouldn't have been that funny, but when he says that so flatly, so done with his shit, well, now he's creasing in on himself in laughter, tipping over onto his side and desperately trying to regain his breath. He's pretty sure he's ruined the mood until he props himself up with his arms and looks up at Shuuichi, expecting some mock unamused look and instead receiving the softest 'I'm in love with you' gaze he's ever scene. 

Shuuichi drops down to mirror Rantaro's position and height, enjoying the dazed look on the other's face before delivering a final blow. "3 words, 8 letters, I love you."

Give him a good 10, maybe 20 seconds, he'll figure out how to respond.

"And I thought I was too cheesy."

"Rantaro!" 

Okay, maybe the mood really WAS ruined now, but the replacement of back and forth jokes, jabs and teasing was equally welcomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of projecting here I suppose. I just love a good sudoku, but cross-words just don't do it for me.
> 
> It makes sense to me though. after all, he tutors maths in the love hotel event. As for Shuuichi, I feel like english would be more his strong point, and when juggling truths and lies like he does, he has to consider various options and potential outcomes - crosswords would be a good way to channel some of that energy without using the same kind of reasoning in his detective work. 
> 
> Are these oneshots becoming character studies? Headcannons? I'm trying to keep them in character, but I enjoy thinking about what new facts we could attach to them that are in character.


	6. Post-Simulation AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shuuichi, you were dreaming, you’re fine, I’m fine, we’re all fine.”
> 
> 5 years on from the Killing Game Simulation, Shuuichi still has nightmares. Rantaro tries to help him through them, but things aren't always so simple or easy.

He’s awoken with a start as the body in his arms spasms for a moment and begins scrambling to grab onto different parts of his being. His shoulders, his hair, sliding up and down his body in a familiar motion that is Shuuichi’s way of confirming his existence. The journey of his touches ends at the back of his t-shirt, clutching the fabric so tightly he doesn’t need to see his knuckles to know they’re white. 

Allowing his instincts to take control in place of his groggy mind, he quickly mirrors his boyfriend’s actions, tightening his hold. He learnt early on that giving Shuuichi space in these situations was counterproductive, it enabled him to drift into his memories of the simulation until he was convinced he was still there. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorryI’msorryI’msorrysorrysorrysorry” The guilt is tumbling out of his mouth in between harsh gasps for air. He’s not asking for forgiveness - he doesn’t think he deserves it - but it’s all he can think to say. 

“Shuuichi, you were dreaming, you’re fine, I’m fine, we’re all fine.” There’s a pause in movement and silence, disturbed only by heavy breathing, fills the air.

Rantaro trails his fingers up and down Shuuichi’s back, hoping the sensation it provides will short-circuit his brain long enough to come back to reality. As he feels tremors pass through the detective, he continues to whisper affirmation of their new reality. They’re for himself as much as his partner, as he himself desperately tries to ignore the phantom pain pounding in the back of his head. 

“Even if it wasn’t real, the fact I couldn’t save them is.” This was often pointed out after one of Shuuichi’s nightmares, but what was once choked out in broken sobs is now whispered in fear, all the breaking happening silently inside. 

“You saved everyone from being executed and took down the cooperation saving tens or hundreds of possible future participants.” The fact doesn’t matter to Shuuichi, but he’ll remind him of it regardless.

There’s so much either of them could still say, discuss their inabilities to save and protect, how Shuuichi could only help by sending friends to their deaths, Rantato’s inability to remember the 52nd game and all of his friends he’ll never know, find or apologise to. There’s so much to say but they’ve said it all before, and neither want to rehash regrets of that size at 3am.

“Five years Rantaro, we’ve come so far, but every time I think I’ve moved on it all comes back again.”

He opens his mouth to reply but stops himself when he feels another deep breath being taken, a preparation to start talking again.

“I know it’s always going to be a problem, and I’d rather carry the trauma and pain than be numb to it all but how many times will I have to relive every mistake we made, and see pink blood instead of red?”

His own memories are starting to play in his mind, his own breathing becoming laboured in a desperate attempt to remain a rock for Shuuichi. But the other is perceptive as ever and can read Rantaro like a book (a book in a foreign language perhaps. Rantaro is very good at wearing masks to disguise his discomfort, but Shuuichi has learnt how to see through it all and he’s still learning).

“I’m sorry, it’s not like we can’t live with these thoughts, we do it every day right?”

“But,” he pauses to gather himself with deep breaths “it’s still important to talk about every now and then. If you need to talk I want to be there.”

“Quarter to 4 in the morning isn’t the best time though is it?” Shuuichi slips out of his arms, rolling onto his back as he presses his palms into his eyes, the ghost of a fake smile on his lips fighting to lighten the mood.

It slips, clearly not working and far too false for either of their liking. 

“We’ve stayed up late past 4 before, I can handle it if you need me too!” He prides himself on being dependable, on his experience at comforting others (even if the sisters he helped were fake, the memories made him who he was, dictated who he should be).

“Rantaro, I know you could, but maybe we just need to sleep this one off after all.” Even Shuuichi doesn’t know what he needed from this, but the self-hate and fear have faded into a subtle, manageable ache and that’s enough. 

The defensive tension in the adventurer's body dissolved, noticing the other wasn't shaking in panic anymore. Sure, neither were in the best state, but it was silently agreed between them that neither had anything more they could say - they had done everything they could for the moment. There were no magic words to help them overcome all of this, and comfort was not always immediately obtainable; it could only be felt in the support they continued to offer each other every day. Even if that support wasn't always given in the right way, they had it and they had each other.

And right now that had to be enough, it was enough. 

“Right…..you’re right. Feel ready to try again then?”

With a nod, Shuuichi took the initiative and pulled the other in, nuzzling his head into his neck as he draped an arm protectively over his waist. 

“Yeah, you’re here right now, everyone is alive, that’s enough to help me sleep tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was kinda indulgent, but I also wanted to try something different. Feelings like these are sometimes easier to express with music I think, but I want to improve at using words to convey everything. 
> 
> Feedback is always welcome. Take care all!


	7. Fear and Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How and why is it that when he starts to get close to someone, when they like him even in spite of his complexities and he likes them that he freaks out?"
> 
> Rantaro experiences panic he just can't identify the root cause of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a tad bit more cussing in this shot but nothing too vulgar - hope no one minds!
> 
> Edit: I've also noticed this chapter has a dodgier layout - the gaps between each sentence/paragraph are larger. I have no idea why and I'm sorry about that. Hopefully I can avoid it in the future.

He awakens, his mind calm and clear before memories from the previous day surface, and now the familiar feeling of panic and discomfort are building in his chest. It rises to his throat with a sickly sensation, and he breathes in sharply in an attempt to weaken the feeling. 

“Oh no.”

Unsurprisingly, it only fuels the fire of his burning lungs, his heart beating faster as if to escape the blanket of anxiety weighing down on it. 

“How? Why?” He drags out the single syllables with a whine. If breathing in isn’t an option he might as well waste his breath on questions he _still_ doesn’t know the answer to. 

How and why is it that when he starts to get close to someone, when they like him even in spite of his complexities and he likes them that he freaks out?

He thinks of a gentle voice and focused eyes, looking at him as if he were another one of the detective’s mysteries to solve. He remembers the way it turned so soft and lost it’s usual shy edge when he said “I love you, Rantaro”. He remembers gleefully responding with the same “I love you too.”. He remembers feeling so much joy and contentment, overwhelmed with positivity and affection he thought it could overflow.

And now he’s overwhelmed with fear and confusion and _anger_ because this was not how he was supposed to feel, not when he was in love with someone who reciprocates his feelings.

He finally pulls his body out of bed, swaying slightly as spots cover his vision. They’re short-lived, but the breathless dizziness that came with them remains as he throws his pajamas off in frustrated huffs and steps into the shower. 

The pressure of the water is hard and fast; temperature burning hot. The pinpricks falling on him give him a momentary distraction, and he steps out, feeling like the calm and laid-back Rantaro Amami he likes being for all of 3 seconds. At this point he notices his complexion grow pale in the bathroom mirror, a sense of responsibility for who knows what winding him. 

He’s striding with purpose into his room, shaky hands fumbling with his belt and arms punching through the sleeves of his school shirt and jumper in an attempt to vent out the nervous energy and exasperation.

Why couldn’t he just think about all the things they could do together, focus on Shuuichi’s cute laugh and those reassuring words that he wasn’t going to go anywhere or leave hi-

Oh. Oh shit. 

Was this fear of commitment? He doesn’t remember those words making him feel tied down or trapped before now. But that doesn’t make sense, he can't think of anyone else he’d rather be with, Shuuichi was and is more than enough- more than he deserved.

The crushing sense of expectation is the next thing he notices, poignantly accompanied with the thought that he had very little ability to deliver.

Maybe he was actually afraid of a relationship itself? He tries to throw what logic he possesses at the theory to see if it holds up.

Was it because of all the travelling he needed and wanted to do? No, Shuuchi already told him he was fine with that and supported him in his endeavors. 

What about his habit of masking his issues and emotions - he’d be impossible to communicate with surely. Nope, the past 2 years they had spent together at Hope’s Peak had proved Shuuichi could see through those masks and when he couldn't, he adapted and often drew the truth out of him.

Should he be doubting the validity and strength of his feelings for Shuuichi? No. Way. Too much pining and gay panic for that to be the case. 

When did he leave his dorm? When did he start walking down the streets and through the front gate to his classroom? Was he that consumed by his thoughts? Wait, what is he supposed to do with himself when he sees Shuuichi and everyone else? Hoping no passers by are paying much attention he practices pulling his lips into a signature carefree smile. No luck, he can only feel the corners twitch in resistance.

_Breathe_ Rantaro. _Fucking breathe._

He can't breathe.

Turning back is not an option and he means that in two ways: He refuses to skip classes, this was no reason to skip. So what if he felt wrong in his own skin at this point? It was all in his own messed-up head, it wasn't physically stopping him and he missed enough classes as it was.

He didn't want to worry Shuuichi either. 

He can't run away from Shuuichi either. He cares too much, can't bear to hurt him, can't allow something this nonsensical to get in the way of their happiness.

So why is it, when he walks through the classroom doorway and locks eyes with Shuuichi, sitting at his desk surrounded by their friends, that he can only think to do exactly what he just convinced himself not to?

On second thought, he’s the Ultimate Adventurer, right? He could jump on his father’s boat and no one would think twice about it, right? 

Except Shuuichi. Shit, okay, not an option. 

Putting all his effort and concentration on the movement of his legs and feet he carries himself towards the group. Ahh, what a pitifully short trip, certainly not long enough to gather any coherent thoughts.

He can't figure out the root of the problem right now, and he certainly isn't ready to discuss it, and so he only has one option: Lie, ignore Shuuichi’s inevitable concern and confusion and survive the day. 

He picks his head up from his feet and smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'd be lying if I said this is my first vent fic but damn, this really helped actually. I struggled to end it, because while a few aspects of this were changed to fit Rantaro's character, the feelings themselves are something I'm still trying to wrap my head around. 
> 
> I think I have an idea though, so if anyone would be interested in a part 2 please let me know in the comments. That, or give me your own thoughts on how you think Rantaro and Shuuichi would handle this - as always feedback and opinions are always welcome.
> 
> P.S. Hope that didn't get too real and I hope you could enjoy this regardless.


	8. The Blackened Is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He's desperate to keep breathing, but he can't when he sees the results:"
> 
> One of our boys murders, but for what purpose?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I had this idea at 2am and sat on it for a couple days and now we're here. It is without a doubt dramatic, but please accept this quick shot of angst.

Rantaro's heart is heavy as his hand hovers over the button that would select Shuuichi as the blackened. All the evidence points to him, the poison in his lab, the timing to give it to Tenko. Tenko who was ill and vulnerable, who Rantaro had patiently waited until she accepted medicine and help from a degenerate male.

He tries to squash the feeling of losing another sister; it isn't hard when it's drowned out by the fear of losing the boy he'd become so close with in this atua-forsaken game. 

"Misplaced faith in an apprentice detective, I told you all not to trust my skills, but I can't blame you for not listening. After all, none of you thought I was talking about how I would use my skills." Why does it feel like Shuuichi is trying to copy Kokichi's theatrics? "Did I do it Monokuma? Did I create the best, most gruesome murder? I know visually it's pretty tame but this plan is rich in betrayal!" Those words shouldn't slide so naturally off of his tongue. They do, however, drip with a disgusting amount of excitement that sounds disgustingly wrong coming from him.

He loves Shuuichi, but he has to face the truth. If that means discarding his previous reality for this one, and seeing Shuuichi for all of his insanity and possibly manipulative actions up to this point, so be it. He owes it to everyone else who's still alive; his sisters he still has to find; to Shuuichi himself. 

He's almost surprised he doesn't break the button with how much force he uses to submit his answer.

Panic is creeping through his lungs and up his throat into his brain. He's desperate to keep breathing, but he can't when he sees the results:

11 votes for Shuuichi Saihara.  
The blackened: Rantaro Amami

"UpuPU! Isn't this a surprise!" The bear's eyes lock onto each shocked, betrayed and fearful expression with glee. Each stare is locked onto Rantaro, and Rantaro's is locked onto Shuuichi's, the hysterical grin replaced with a sad smile and a hopeful spark in his eyes.

"I don't.....understand. I didn't do it. I didn't do it so why?!"

"You gonna explain Mr Detective, or shall I?" Monokuma side eyes the boy in question, the white half of his body practically non-existent in his line of sight. 

"We got the times wrong." Kokichi takes centre stage instead, but his voice is empty. "You didn't give it to her while she was resting, you switched it out with the medicine Rantaro used without him knowing."

"Yep, the plan was actually pretty simple. You're smart Kokichi, you all are, so the only way to really throw you all off was with my intentions." He walks over to Rantaro, pulls him into a bone-crushing hug (not the sort that's heartwarming and reassuring, no, it's more the kind that's afraid and desperate to never let go). The tears are flowing heavy and free, blurring the view of metal collars snapping round the necks of his classmates and friends, dragging them away one by one before they can voice frustrations and curses, pleas and prayers. 

"Your sisters, Rantaro. They're waiting, and for what? For everyone else here to kill themselves and possibly you? For two of use to remain before we're given some bullshit truth of no real escape?"

"Shuuichi it never had to come to this, or to that. I didn't want to lose anyone else, I don't want to lose yo-"

He's pushed away as metal clasps around Shuuichi's neck, his last words coming out in rasps. 

"Go Rantaro. Find them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly, this has given me flashbacks to a oneshot book I wrote years ago on Wattpad. I'm telling you now, I am not proud of that work, but I like to think this is an improvement from that time. 
> 
> And for anyone interested about the last chapter, I imagine I will write a part 2 at some point, but I still need to decide exactly how to end it. Hopefully what I write in between continues to entertain.
> 
> Take care!


	9. Home Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Best part of an hour later and he's stepping through their front door, flicking on a light that should have already lit the hallway. He's far too awake for his liking, and far too aware of what isn't there. He can't smell fresh nail polish in the air, nor can he hear the restless padding of bare feet on carpet floors. No one pokes their head around the corner to welcome him home, and no one has offered to comfort him with a hug after a long, difficult day"
> 
> Rantaro leaves to find his sisters and Shuuichi pines - he pines a whole hecking lot.

Being a man of impulse, it wasn’t unusual for Rantaro to spontaneously leave for weeks at a time. All it took was the slightest lead or hint on where his sisters could be and he’d be off. Shuuichi understood this, and honestly didn’t mind, heck, if there weren’t many cases to handle at the agency he’d even come along to help. 

But sometimes that wasn’t the case, they both understood he had to stay and take care of his responsibilities.

“I’ll call you tomorrow after my first search okay?” The adventurer’s body is half turned and leaning towards the front door, a hand hovering over the doorknob. There’s hesitation in the movement, the action stemming from a need to get out and find his sisters, combined with the feeling of not wanting to leave Shuuichi. 

“Don’t worry about it Taro, just focus on what you need to do.” His voice is firm with confidence, the words spoken with practised ease. 

“I will, but if you need me for anything just call. It doesn’t have to be an emergency either.” His eyebrows are ever so slightly upturned, his concern slipping through the cracks of a calm facade. 

“I know, I know.” That’s half truth and half a lie, logically he understands he can call if there’s a need or he wants to, but deep down his guilt would still hold him back - they both knew this, but left it unsaid, picking and choosing their battles. “Now hurry before you miss your flight, and stay safe.”

Rantaro in all his easy going nature lets it go, planting a quick kiss on his forehead before rushing off. 

He misses the warmth of his touch immediately, but pushes the thought down before it can consume him. 

__________

It's five days into Rantaro's two-week excursion, and Shuuichi's coping mechanism is already being thwarted. It's tragic really, betrayal from his own uncle. 

"Shuuichi, you've been coming in early and staying late everyday this past week, for the love of God take a break." 

He's quick to defend himself "But you've always advocated for overloading on coffee and working into the early hours!" The case file on his desk is swiped off with careful precision so as not to knock the surrounding papers on the floor, then it's tapped on his head, a little harder than intended perhaps. 

"That logic is filled with holes and you know it. A. I only do that with murder cases we really struggle with. B. I only do it three nights in a row at most - your aunt would kill me otherwise - and C. Destroying my body is MY job, not yours. Now go, before I have your aunt convince you instead."

An empty house is one thing, but the wrath of an aunt who's practically like his mother at this point is something else entirely. He gathers his things and scarpers, ignoring the itch of frustration at having his uncle outdo him. He loves him, he really does, and the gratitude he feels towards him will never fade but dammit he needed a distraction!

Best part of an hour later and he's stepping through their front door, flicking on a light that should have already lit the hallway. He's far too awake for his liking, and far too aware of what isn't there. He can't smell fresh nail polish in the air, nor can he hear the restless padding of bare feet on carpet floors. No one pokes their head around the corner to welcome him home, and no one has offered to comfort him with a hug after a long, difficult day. 

Is he romanticising things here? Definitely. Normally the acetone would be far too strong for his liking, leaving him a little dizzy, and the pacing would spike his anxiety and worry. Now he's cursing his lack of appreciation and gratitude for what was there, the growing ache replacing everything missing. Deciding to skip dinner so that sleep can distract him instead, he can hear a baritone voice chiding him in a lighthearted tone. 

\-------------

After a very slow week, Rantaro was finally free for a Face-time call. They'd managed a few brief calls, phones held tightly and pressed close to their ears (and if one of these calls occurred at 3am for Shuuichi due to a tired Rantaro forgetting about time differences, he didn't mention it). Pixels on his laptop screen flicker and change to show a scruffy looking Rantaro. It's a familiar sight to Shuuichi and he can guess how it came to be: Hair ruffled by stressed fingers running through and pushing it back, dark circles from being awake for about 20 hours a day, and most likely an odd, mismatched outfit thrown haphazardly together in a rush - creased if the crumpled pile of clothes on the bed in the background is any indicator at least. 

"Hey Shuuichi! How's the week been?" A blinding smile contradicts the very obvious mess his husband is, and Shuuichi melts under it's warmth. 

"It's been good." He lies with a small smile. "The cases have been interesting, but nothing too difficult and we're pretty close to solving that missing child case I mentioned last week."

"Do you think it will, umm, have a good ending?" An awkward question, but these cases always hit Rantaro differently for obvious reasons. It sends a pang through Shuuichi's heart.

"It looks promising, if I'm right-

"And when aren't you right?" 

"If I'm right, everything and everyone will be just fine." Shuuichi's unabashedly grinning at that dastardly smooth interruption, and Rantaro's grinning like the cat that got the cream. 

"Perfect. And what else have you been up to?" And now the grin twitches, and Rantaro doesn't have to be a detective to notice. "Shuuichi, please don't tell me you've been working 24/7."

"No! I've been doing a few sudokus, watched a few episodes of that murder series I started...." That nervous tick of his where he can't hold eye contact isn't doing anything to sell his story, but Rantaro doesn't want this to turn into a lecture. 

"Just take care of yourself. Please?"

Shuuichi's postures relaxes as the interrogation passes, and he forces his eyes to lock back onto the screen. "You too okay? I know you're doing your best but you can't do that when you're exhausted." 

A frustrated scowl passes through his features, but a deep breath later and it morphs into a determined, if only slightly strained, expression. 

"I miss you Shuuichi, I wish you were here." 

Shuuichi has been thinking exactly the same thing all week, and yet hearing the sentiment articulated has quite a different effect, and he can feel a lump building in his throat. He hastily grabs the mug of decaf coffee next to him, taking large gulps in an attempt to squash it down. 

"I miss you too." Oh God saying it himself is even worse. "You think I'd be used to this by now, but everything always feels wrong without you." Now his voice is wavering. Another gulp proves unsuccessful in quelling his rising emotions. Shuuichi can only hold his breath and hope Rantaro hasn't noticed.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry love, but what did you say? You kinda glitched out for a moment there." Never has such a normally infuriating sentence caused such a strong sense of relief. He takes a moment to gather himself, to avoid making the same mistake, to steady his voice. 

"I miss you too, but I'm sure you'll be back before we know it." He throws in a lopsided smile for good measure, the right side of his mouth tight as it fights to quirk upwards. "I'll try to come with you on your next trip. I'll help out more." Had they been together in person Rantaro would have easily seen through the fake cheerfulness, but through the blurry, pixelated screen it passes (the little sleep he was performing on wasn't much help either), and so he slumps a little in relief at the words, glad his partner is okay at least. 

"I think that was just what I needed to hear. But you shouldn't worry Shuuichi, you help me enough as it is, you know that." And yet it will never be enough in Shuuichi's eyes, not until all 12 sisters are found and safe. That thought, on the other hand, is enough to snap him out of his moment with Rantaro. He hasn't got time for him right now, hasn't got time to talk when he should be getting valuable, limited rest. And so he decides to wrap this up, so Rantaro can get to more important things, and so he can avoid crying in front of his far-too-caring husband. 

"Maybe it's enough, but you know I like to push myself beyond that." Rantaro frowns at that failed bit of humour. Shuuichi rushes to continue. "But for now you need to rest before you push yourself too far. Sleep Taro, I'll be here whenever you need me."

After some weak protesting and insistent persuasion, they bid each other goodnight (or rather good morning for Rantaro at this point), and end the call. It's Shuuichi's turn to slump into his desk, palms pressing into his eyes as his breathes deeply and refuses to cry. 

\--------------

It's another five days and Rantaro's return feels so close yet so far. Two days. Not even two days. Only 34 hours, 23 minutes and 2- Dammit he promised Rantaro he wouldn't count this time. 

He looks at the world map before him, strands of red, blue and yellow coloured string connecting different countries to pictures of girls with green hair and soft green eyes that are painfully familiar. His socked feet pace before it, replicating the sound Rantaro normally makes, but these steps are lighter and are becoming more and more agitated. If his uncle refuses to let him work, he'll put his free time and efforts into the twelve mysteries he's yet to solve, even if they make him feel like his brain might explode. 

Grabbing papers filled with different leads and slivers of information, the detective glances quickly between the text and the map. It feels as though there is a connection to be made, one that can be found at the tips of his fingers, or right under his nose, or whatever other metaphor works in this situation. Time becomes irrelevant, and the ticking of the pocketwatch Rantaro gifted him last year disappears entirely. 

And then he has it, a concrete idea of exactly where the second-youngest Amami may have gone, and a rough idea of where they would be now. Rough, yes, but something far more solid than any other leads they've had so far. 

Excitement grips him momentarily; satisfied to have made some breakthrough and happy to be able to help. But then the selfish dread hits, because with this lead, Rantaro will be off again almost as soon as he returns, and Shuuichi isn't sure his heart can deal with that. It aches for the kind voice and gentle touch he's grown used to; for the sarky humour that make him laugh like no other; for the strong hold that comforts him at night, or the back he presses his cheek against when he spoons and comforts his lover. He wants to fidget with his many rings; to listen to him rant about his recent travels; to hear his dorky compliments and hit or miss attempts at flirting. 

His heart aches for Taro. 

But he also wishes for the safety of his sisters, and for the peace of mind and soul that Rantaro hasn't fully felt since he was 12 and his first sister was lost. 

They're not really two things you can pick between, and Shuuichi refuses to, but who ever said he has to?

Whipping out his trusty flip-phone ("They're cool okay?" He continues to insist to his friends), he calls his uncle on speed-dial. The response is practically instant.

"Hey, I need to talk to you about work. Nonono! I'm not going to start begging to come back, it's actually the opposite...."

\--------------

The weight of backpack on his shoulders is nothing compared to the weight of the bags under his eyes as the traveler wrestles his keys from his pocket and unlocks the door. He trudges through, dropping the bags onto the floor by the stairs as he goes on an urgent mission to find his lover. He is in dire need of a Shuuichi-recharge, and in even greater need of knowing that the said man was okay. It wasn't hard to tell that these two weeks apart had been hard on them both, but both knew Shuuichi hid his upset more in an attempt to spare the other's feelings. 

"Shuuichi?!" He called as his eyes scanned the rooms. "I'm home! Where are you?" Not long after, he was tackled by a whizz of blue that clung around his torso.

"Welcome back. I missed you so much." Two pairs of arms tightened their holds on the other as they took the moment in, breathing deeply to calm themselves. The smell of paper and coffee hit Rantaro strongly as the satisfaction sunk in. After another moment, they separated and walked to the kitchen, sitting down and catching up - never so far that they couldn't touch one another in some way.

"How did it go?" A heavy question for four simple words, but the sigh that followed was heavier. 

"One clue led to another, and I got so close but.... another dead end." Green hair was grabbed by two tanned hands and pulled, the frustration and disappointment clear in his tone, posture and almost hidden face. There wasn't much Shuuichi could do when Rantaro was like this, but he placed a hand on his thigh, brushing his thumb in a hopes to ground him and remind him he wasn't alone. "Everything you found out, add it to the map, it might help later."

A dejected huff followed "Like it has before." Now all the detective could do was hope his good news would help. Offering his hand, he gently tugged Rantaro toward the study. "Come with me" Tired and confused, but trusting of Shuuichi, he followed. 

Once they arrived, Shuuichi handed him the paper he'd been looking at previously, and explained his new deductions slowly but concisely. He watched as the other's eyes began to widen in surprise and hope before they shot up to stare into his own. A few steps and with Rantaro's long legs he'd reached Shuuichi and pulled him quickly to his chest, hugging him like his life depended on it. He hugged back with equal grip. 

"This might be it, I might find her..."

"We will. We." Lifting the chin that had been tucked on top of his head, Rantaro looked down. "We?"

"I've talked to my uncle, and we've agreed that the agency is in a stable enough position that I can leave for a while. I'm coming with you this time Taro, and I'm going to keep coming until we find all twelve of your sisters." Feeling tears prickling his eyes, he pushed up onto his tip toes and put head into the crook of the other's head. "I don't want to be left behind anymore, it hurt too much, to miss you and want you and want to help you but always be too far." 

A shiver ran down Rantaro's spine as he felt tears fall onto his neck and trickle below his shirt, but he didn't let him go, only bringing him closer. "I know, I'm so sorry for always leaving you, I'm sorry." A finger was pressed to his lips, stopping him.

Spoken at a whisper, as if to speak to words louder was just too daunting, he lowered his finger and asked "Don't say sorry, just tell me I can come, just thank me."

Shaking slightly, they both huffed out breathy chuckles hearts warm and confident as he replied "Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this one about 3.5 months ago and just decided to finish it now at 3am - great life decisions I know. 
> 
> I hope it flows okay, I kinda changed the ending I originally planned, but my tired brain thinks it works. 
> 
> Hope you're all safe and healthy. Have a good day!


End file.
